


Heat Of The Moment

by spacemonkey



Category: Fake News RPF
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 19:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6820600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacemonkey/pseuds/spacemonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Oliver has to deal with the boys. Written in 2007</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat Of The Moment

**Author's Note:**

> This story is ridiculous and I kinda love it. I wrote it very early in 2007, and I don't quite remember why...

“Tolkien was a hack!” Jon yelled into the darkness, fist raised in defiance.  
  
John just hung his head. “Jon, don’t you think you’re taking this a bit far?”  
  
Before he could receive an answer, an upstairs window opened. Stephen poked his head out. “ _The Simpsons_ hasn’t been good in ten years!”  
  
“It was good up till Season 13!”  
  
Stephen rolled his eyes; John was sure of it, even from the distance. “Prove it!” he shouted, then added,” And Tolkien was a genius!”  
  
Stephen and Jon glared at one another from their respective positions.  
  
“This might just be the most pointless argument ever,” John sighed. He took off his glasses and began to clean them. “Remind me again why I’m here?”  
  
“You were the only one left at the bar when I decided to come here.” Jon turned from Stephen to John, shrugged. “Emotional support?”  
  
John raised his eyebrows. “I think you’re very drunk.”  
  
“So I had eight beers.” Jon shrugged again, turned back to the window. “Stephen!”  
  
John checked his watch. This was going to be a long night.

  
  
***********

  
  
“He said that he would sleep with Hugh Laurie,” Jon complained, eyes closed, feet propped up on the armrest.  
  
“Jon, the majority of the Earth’s population would sleep with Hugh Laurie.” John handed his boss a mug of coffee and sat down next to him.  
  
“He didn’t have to say it.” Jon pouted, then took a sip of the coffee with slightly trembling hands. John looked on with worry. “Then he goes into detail. _Detail!_ I’m pretty sure there was some toe sucking; Stephen won’t even suck my toes.”  
  
“To be fair, Hugh’s toes are a lot less hairy than yours.” John shrugged off the glare he received. “I said to be fair!”  
  
“Why are you here?”  
  
“Emotional support. Apparently,” John sighed. He took the coffee from Jon, set it down on the table before it was dropped. “Why was Stephen angry at you?”  
  
Jon sat up slightly, giving John a surprised look. “You were there, I insulted Tolkien.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s worse than denouncing God.”  
  
John nodded. “Nothing else?” he ventured.  
  
“No!” Jon paused, rubbing his head. “Well . . .” He gave John an innocent look. “I did, uh-”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Kinda call you the new Stephen.” Jon ducked his head in shame.  
  
John inwardly beamed. Outwardly, he sighed. “Well, yes, that might have done it.”  
  
“Do you think we’re broken up for good? Can I win him back?” Jon looked small and hung-over; John felt pity, if only for a moment.   
  
The feeling faded quickly.  
  
“I’m not your bloody therapist!”

  
  
*************

  
  
Jon looked determined, John had to admit. Standing there, desperate to win his love back and pretend he hadn’t insulted Stephen’s God.  
  
But there was no way Jon could pull off dignified, not with a boom box above his head, playing _Heat of the Moment_ loud enough to wake the neighborhood.   
  
“Stephen!” Jon shouted. John watched him with something that resembled contempt, still not entirely sure how he had once again been dragged along.  
  
The window opened, Stephen poking his head out. “Jon?”  
  
“It’s our song, Stephen!”  
  
Their song? _Oh Christ_ , was all John could think. It was lame, even by their standards.  
  
Stephen visibly melted, right before their eyes. “Jon . . .”  
  
John frowned. But Tolkien . . .  
  
Hope flashed in Jon’s eyes. “Stephen?”  
  
John walked off muttering, “This is bloody ridiculous.”


End file.
